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Sunday 8 May 2011

a long, long time ago...

Now for ten years we’ve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollin’ stone,
But that’s not how it used to be.
When the jester sang for the king and queen,
In a coat he borrowed from james dean
And a voice that came from you and me,

Oh, and while the king was looking down,
The jester stole his thorny crown.
The courtroom was adjourned;
No verdict was returned.
And while lennon read a book of marx,
The quartet practiced in the park,
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died.

We were singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."

-Niciodata!Dar absolut NICIODATA atata timp cat vei trai sa nu-mi mai faci asa ceva!In viata ta sa nu mai contesti nici macar pentru o secunda deciziile si cat vei mai avea suflare in tine tine minte ca atunci cand eu n-am sa mai pot articula un cuvant am sa pic in prapastie si-am sa te iau cu mine asa ca roaga-te in genunchi si roaga-te bine ca asta sa nu se intample vreodata!....Nu subestima ceea ce pot sa fac!Sa nu dea dracu' sa ma subestimezi vreodata!
-....Era sa pierdem tot.
-Crezi ca eu nu stiam!?Crezi ca eu nu stiam ca eram pe punctul de-a ne distruge, cretinule!?Doamne!.....Tu, chiar crezi ca te-as fi luat dupa mine?!Tu chiar crezi ca eu n-as fi facut tot ce-mi statea in putere sa te scap!?
-...te rog...

Helter skelter in a summer swelter.
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter,
Eight miles high and falling fast.
It landed foul on the grass.
The players tried for a forward pass,
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast.

Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While the sergeants played a marching tune.
We all got up to dance,
Oh, but we never got the chance!
`cause the players tried to take the field;
The marching band refused to yield.
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?

We started singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."


Era tarziu, eram speriata, eram obosita si ma chinuiam sa strig ca sa nu plang. Tremuram din toate incheieturile si ma chinuiam sa alerg ca sa nu pic in genunchi, dar blufam si stia.Stia mai bine decat stiam ca eu ca nu ma zbateam cu adevarat cand mi-a apucat mainile si m-a tras catre el, stia mai bine decat mine ca nu ma opuneam cu adevarat cand mi-a strivit buzele de ale lui si stia prea bine ca nu-l loveam cu adevarat atunci cand mi-a strans capul la pieptul lui ca sa pot plange.
Dar si el mintea, insa eu stiam adevarul cand i-am luat mana intr-a mea, stiam adevarul cand i-am mangaiat fata, stiam adevarul printre respiratii sacadate si rabufniri sfasiate si stiam mult prea bine adevarul in timp ce-i tineam capul pe pieptul meu privind pierduta soarele de dimineata.


And the three men I admire most:
The father, son, and the holy ghost,
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died.

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